


Illusion

by BlueMaize



Category: Flashpoint (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMaize/pseuds/BlueMaize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg has been an unbonded Alpha for far too long but, after conventional treatment of the resulting illness fails, he's forced to resort to the unconventional  - a new, fully immersive 3D technology meant to simulate an Omega encounter. So Greg spends a passionate few hours with an Omega named Spike. Only the encounter isn't what it seems and Greg is left to deal with the fallout. </p>
<p>A one-shot. Angst, sex, comfort. Not necessarily in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusion

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote an actual one-shot. Warnings for not-so-graphic sex and some language. There is no non-con in this fic. I totally didn't manage to distract the angst fairy. Maybe next time.

It was an uncomfortable conversation with his doctor, Greg trying very hard to listen and remain objective.

“Look Greg, it happens. Alphas aren’t meant to go unbonded for as long as you have. With no Omega contact, the hormone levels eventually drop and you start to get symptoms. The pins and needles are just the start. But it’s simple to treat. An injection once a week for four weeks then monthly for the foreseeable. If, in the meantime, you meet an Omega, then all well and good.”

There was nothing else for it. A quick swipe of disinfectant across his upper arm and a sharp pinch as the needle bit through his skin followed by the burn of the medication as it was pushed through the syringe. And then it was over. Except it wasn’t.

Almost immediately Greg felt something wasn’t right. An itching around his mouth. A lump in his throat. A feeling like hives across his skin.

“Um, doc. I think we may have a problem.”

A shot of adrenaline, a quick ambulance ride to the hospital, IV steroids and antihistamines, and two days later he was back sitting in his doctor's office.

“So there is good news and bad news Greg. No lasting effects from your anaphylactic shock. Allergic reactions are very rare though which means there's no alternative formulation. So no more injections for you.”

“Isn’t there any other way to get the hormones?”

“Bonding of course, but you’ve never given me any suggestion you had an Omega in your life.”

“I don’t.” Greg replied softly and little wistfully.

“Well, as it happens, you’re in luck. Maybe luck is too strong a word. There is a recently derived alternative. It’s a little out there but so far the research supports its use in cases like these.”

***

It took Greg a long time to get his head around it. Maybe it was his age. Or the maybe the idea was just so _out there_.

He arrived at the Alpha-Omega research clinic and was ushered into a waiting room before being taken in for a consultation with the doctor in charge.

“So I’m sure your own doctor explained how this works?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s still not very clear in my mind.”

The doctor smiled at his response.

“In that case, let me explain again. We use the very latest in 3D holographic technologies, combined with artificial Omega pheromones and a neuro-touch interface. With that we give you a small injection of a chemical that helps you synthesise the information the technology is giving to you by activating the hallucogenic centres in your brain. So what you perceive through your senses via the programme appears real. Your mind knows better but it will be overridden by your instincts at being faced with an Omega in heat. Does that make sense?”

Greg let the information sink in.

“I guess it does. I suppose it’s just hard to see how even all that combined is going to convince my body I’m with a real Omega.”

“Our research says that it works. Trust us and give it a try. There are always… other options, if it comes to it.” The distaste was clear on the other man’s face and Greg knew why. Other options were illegal Omega brothels where Omegas were pumped full of chemicals so they were permanently in heat. Vice was always shutting them down but as fast as they did, another would pop up. There were no legitimate alternatives because of the nature of the chemicals needed to prevent bonding between an Omega in heat and an Alpha. They severely shortened the Omega’s lifespan. The doctor’s voice interrupted his musings.

“Now, before we begin we’d like to take a blood sample to measure your hormone levels. We’ll take another sample afterwards for comparison.”

***

It was another hour before they were ready to start. Greg had been instructed to bring comfortable clothing so he’d changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. They’d placed microchipped stickers on the front and side of his head. And there was an injection in his upper arm to finish. They waited a few minutes for it to kick in and then tested everything.

“Focus on the table.” Greg did and on it appeared a kitten. Frowning, he leaned in to observe it more closely before reaching out to touch it. He was surprised to feel fur beneath his fingers followed by the vibration and sound of the kitten purring. Its skin was warm beneath his palm and its back arched to meet his touch. He could smell the scent of cat from it.

“Wow” was all he could say.

“Great, you’re ready to go.” The technician smiled at him. “Wait here and I’ll get one of our orderlies to bring you to your room. Remember, what happens in the room is entirely private. There are no cameras or monitoring equipment. The doors can be opened freely from the inside but only by use of a key card from outside. I hope you have an enjoyable experience.” With another smile, she was gone.

There was a ten minute wait before a young man poked his head in. He had a scrap of paper in his hand and looked from it to Greg. “Greg Parker?”

“That’s me.”

“Follow me. You’re in room…” He glanced back down at the paper, turning it slightly.”..65.” He crumpled it and stuck it in his pocket as Greg followed him out the door. It was a short walk to the room, down a number of increasingly quiet corridors. They stopped in front of room 65.

“The programme’s already started so you can go in and get going at your own pace. When you’re finished, follow the green arrows back to the room you were just in. There’s a blue button inside the room next to the door, that’s the intercom if you need to talk to someone. Enjoy your stay.” The orderly spoke in a disinterested tone, pressing a key card to the door to open it and he left as soon as he’d finished speaking. Greg caught the door before it could close, looked back at the orderly for a moment, then stepped inside. The air was thick with the pheromones of an Omega in heat.

The lighting inside was low, a quiet ambiance permeating the room. He let the door shut quietly and turned into the unknown. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. Soft music played in the background.

The room was like a hotel room with a large bed in the centre. Sitting at the end of it, looking shy and uncertain, was an Omega. A projection of an Omega, his mind corrected him.

He had dark hair and dark eyes, skin pale but flushed. Even from this distance, even without the pheromones, Greg would have recognised an Omega in heat.

“Um, hi.” The Omega spoke, giving a small wave.

“Hi. I’m Greg.” He almost winced at his words. Were you supposed to introduce yourself to a hologram, a trick of light?

“Spike.” The other man replied with a small smile.

Greg stepped further into the room, surveying all around him.

“Spike, huh, that’s different.” Some kind of reference to the technology maybe? An acronym?

“I’ve heard worse nicknames.” The Omega replied with a shrug. “So I suppose we should… get on with it.”

“Sure, if you’re comfortable with that.” Greg wasn’t sure why he was asking the simulation whether he was comfortable with what he’d been programmed to do.

“That’s why I’m here.” Spike replied softly as Greg took a seat next to him on the bed.

Greg reached a hand out as he spoke, keeping his voice equally soft. “Do you mind?”

Spike gave the slightest shake of his head, watching intently as Greg reached for him. He lightly caught the Omega’s chin, marvelling at the feel of the skin beneath his fingers. Then he reached a thumb up and ran it slowly across the younger man’s lips. The second time he did it, Spike parted his lips and sucked Greg’s thumb gently. The sensation went straight to Greg’s groin and he could barely stifle a moan.

He leaned in slowly, breathing in deeply to inhale the delicious heat scent from the Omega projection, and let their lips meet. Reaching for the robe covering Spike’s shoulders, he gently tugged the material down, relishing the feel of bare skin beneath his fingers. He felt just as real and solid as the kitten had. Moreso even. Skin warm to the touch, shoulders moving with each breath Spike took.

The Omega seemed endearingly shy but pliable, not protesting when Greg reached between them to undo the belt of his robe but then automatically reaching to hold the edges of the robe closed.

“Hey.” Greg whispered, caressing the Omega’s cheek with a hand. “We’ll take it slow, okay.”

“Okay.” The Omega smiled sweetly at his reassurance and released the grip on his robe, allowing Greg to part it and see the body beneath.

His breath caught in his throat. “Wow, you are just… perfect.”

The Omega’s smile became a grin. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”

Greg shed his t-shirt and sweats and guided Spike to lie back on the bed. Starting at the Omega’s forehead, he began to explore the body beneath him, using sight, smell, touch and taste. He kissed, licked and sucked his way down Spike’s body, feeling the Omega moan, squirm and gasp beneath him. Greg took his time, savouring the realism, the closeness. The Omega’s hands had come up tentatively, fingers trailing along Greg’s shoulders and upper back. Greg shifted upwards again so they were face to face, bringing his mouth to press hard against the Omega’s.

“I’m ready.” Spike panted into his mouth. “Greg, I’m ready.”

Greg pushed away a little and Spike shifted on to his hands and knees.

“No, not like that.” Greg said, nudging gently. “On your side.”

Spike looked a little puzzled at the direction but moved and Greg slotted in behind him. He bent Spike’s topmost knee and gently pushed it upward towards his chest before trailing two fingers between the Omega’s legs confirming the wetness he knew was there.

He wrapped his upper body around the Omega as he manoeuvred into place. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

“No.” The word momentarily shocked Greg back to himself. “Not slow. Fast and hard. ‘s what we both need.”

“Are you sure?” Greg asked.

“I’m sure. So sure. Want this. Want you. Now.” The Omega’s tone was demanding and needy.

Greg took him at his word and for a while there was nothing but moans and groans between them.

It had been so long since Greg had done anything like this. So long since he’d gotten what he needed. Spike was wet, hot and tight. Each thrust heightened the sensations Greg was feeling. Spike responded perfectly, giving clear signs of pleasure, pushing back against Greg and generally impersonating the perfect Omega. Pleasure built and Greg lost himself in it, thrusting rhythmically, holding the Omega close to him.

As he reached climax, instinct took over fully and he pressed his mouth to the Omega’s neck and bit down. Spike cried out in pleasure and they came simultaneously, ecstasy overwhelming all other thought.

***

He dozed for a while after, waking to find Spike sleeping soundly next to him. He reached out one hand, tracing the bite mark on the back of the Omega’s neck with one finger. The Omega murmured but didn’t stir. Sighing with contentment, Greg reluctantly got up and dressed, closing the door carefully behind him as he left the room. He nearly laughed at himself, being quiet and trying not to wake a hologram. Ed wouldn’t let him live it down if he ever told him.

He returned to the assessment area, got another set of bloods taken, and his clothes were returned. He dressed and headed home, content with the idea that doing this a few times a year would be enough to offset the effects of not being bonded.

***

Forty-eight hours later and he was feeling worse for wear. His temperature was up, he felt hot and ill-fitted to his skin. At a loss, he called the clinic. Maybe it was a side-effect of what they’d injected him with. The nurse he spoke to promised to follow up with the doctor and get back to him.

She called back within the hour and asked him to come in for assessment. Greg, well capable of reading the nuances in people’s tones, read hers well enough. Something was wrong.

He got in his car and drove straight there, the feeling of wrongness growing minute by minute. He found himself pacing the waiting room, unable to stay still.

He was ushered into an office and found his doctor, the research manager and the clinical director waiting. Just their titles alone was enough to tell him there was a serious problem. Their body language and facial expressions elevated that to suggest someone had fucked up somewhere. He couldn’t figure out how until the door opened and a fifth person was ushered into the room. He found himself face to face with his simulated Omega. With Spike. Even from across the room Greg knew immediately what his brain had been trying to tell him the other day. This wasn’t a projection, a simulation. This was a flesh and blood Omega. A newly bonded Omega. His bonded Omega. Oh, hell.

“Would someone explain what is going on please?” Greg asked, voice strained as he forced himself to stay put and not approach the tantalisingly scented Omega whose every pore exuded pheromones that told Greg he was his.

“We are all so very, very sorry. There was a mix-up, a terrible mistake, with the rooms. You were both taking part in different research programs because of your medication sensitivities. The holographic tactile bonding programme and the Alpha bond suppressant trials. Spike, the Alpha taking part in the suppressant trial had to cancel at the last minute. Greg was brought to your room by mistake. He did not realise you were an actual unbonded Omega, couldn’t have known given the preparation he'd had.”

“So you’re saying we’re actually bonded?” The Omega replied flatly, whether from anger or shock Greg didn’t know.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” The doctor’s tone was regretful, his eyes downcast.

“Spike, I am so sorry. If I had had any idea… this was supposed to be the option that meant no-one got hurt…”

“It’s not your fault.” Spike pointed out, voice tight. “It’s theirs.” He nodded his head at the three people watching them.

“We’ve brought in a bonding counsellor to meet with you and help you adjust to this change. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in.” The director said, smoothing her hand nervously down her skirt. Worried about litigation, Greg surmised, before he pondered her actual words.

Take in? Greg hadn’t even begun to process what had been laid at his feet. He felt responsible. He should have known. He should have been able to pick out that Spike’s presence, his reactions, were all too real, instead of letting himself get carried away.

“We’ll give you two a few minutes together and then send the counsellor in.”

They filed out. Spike was standing stock still near the door, face grey. “It’s Greg, right?”

“That’s right. What’s your real name Spike?”

“Michaelangelo. Mike for short but I go by Spike mostly.” Words said as if by rote, coloured by shock.

The younger man squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel.”

“You’re not the one who’s going to have to give up your life for the whims of a stranger.”

Because that was the done thing, that was the law. A bonded Omega wasn’t allowed to continue working unless they worked in a role that was supportive to their Alpha. Bonded Omegas in the police force all worked with their Alphas. The rest stayed at home. It was just how it was. There were campaigns for change in recent years but they hadn’t garnered much public support. Whoever and whatever Spike had been had ended the moment Greg had bitten his neck, those attributes now playing second fiddle to Spike’s role as a bonded Omega.

Greg took a step forward, hands out, placating. Spike stepped back, warding him off.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” The door opened and he was gone, jogging down the corridor. Greg resisted the almost overwhelming urge to give chase. Hunting the Omega down now would only strain the already frayed connection between them.

***

On realising Spike had left the building, the bonding counsellor came to speak to Greg, accompanied by the director.

“I wouldn’t worry. He’ll return to you before long. Omegas always get more severe separation symptoms than Alphas. We can give you some medication to take the edge off the symptoms temporarily.”

“Won’t Spike just get those too?” Greg asked, puzzled.

“No doctor who values their license will prescribe to an Omega in these circumstances. It’s illegal to encourage noncompliance amongst Omegas.”

And Greg had forgotten how patriarchal the laws were around Omegas. One reason bonding hadn’t appealed to him when he was younger, in his prime.

“Here, we have a dossier about your Omega. All his information. Address, family, workplace. We’ve informed the Alpha council of his change in status and they’ll have already informed his employer.” The director said, handing him a manila folder.

“What information has Spike gotten about me?”

The question seemed to surprise her. “Only what you’ve told him. There’s no requirement for Omegas to be provided with information on their Alphas. You’ll tell him what he needs to know as you see fit.”

“No.” Greg shook his head. “That’s not how this is going to work. You’ll create a file on me, just like you’ve done here, and see that Spike gets it. Today.”

The director looked like she was about to argue but abruptly changed her mind on seeing the expression on Greg’s face.

“Of course. We’ll have it to him within the hour. Provided we can locate him.”

“He’ll go home first, I’m sure. I don’t want anyone from the clinic or the council contacting or approaching him. You give him the file, with my contact information, and you leave it at that. Are we understood?”

“Of course. If that’s how you want to handle it.”

“You haven’t left me a lot of choices about how to handle this situation. I need pen and paper to write a letter for Spike. You’ll give it to him with the file.” Greg said.

“Whatever you need.” The director reassured.

***

He managed to last the night before calling his doctor. He picked up the script on his way to work and swallowed the two small pills in his car with a mouthful of water. He felt better within the hour but knew this wasn’t the time to take chances so took himself off active duty.

Ed had frowned at him on hearing this and practically dragged him into the briefing room before sealing the door.

“Greg, you look like hell. What’s going on?” Ed’s piercing blue eyes held contact with him.

“Nothing Eddie. I’m just a bit under the weather.” Greg tried to wave off Ed’s concern.

“I’m not buying it. You’ve been distant and secretive for a while now. Missing days. Are you drinking again?”

The annoyance in Ed’s voice was masking concern.

“No, Eddie. I haven’t fallen off the wagon.”

“Then what?” Ed asked insistently. Greg realised he wasn’t going to be able to fob him off.

“Got diagnosed with Alpha hormone deficiency back a while ago. I’m allergic to the meds so they had me trial this experimental treatment.”

“Okay.” Ed nodded, accepting what he was hearing. “So this is what, side-effects?”

“No, they… they fucked up Eddie. They mixed up their trials and paired me with an actual unbonded Omega. We bonded before anyone realised.”

“So this is…”

“Separation syndrome. We bonded three days ago. We’ve only met once since, for about ten minutes.”

“He’s not happy about the bond?”

“Would you be? He’s had his life torn apart because someone inverted a room number.”

“So are you going to pick him up?”

“What, throw him over my shoulder and carry him home?”

“The separation symptoms aren’t going to get better. You need to handle this, sooner rather than later.”

Greg knew Ed was right. There was only so long they’d both be able to hold out before the symptoms became too much.

“I’ll give him until the end of the day before I try to make contact.”

“Alright, good. But Greg, you should have told me. I could have been there for you.”

“I know Eddie, I just felt so foolish. And now I feel twice the fool. If I hadn’t done the wrong thing, turned to the bottle all those years ago, I wouldn’t be in this situation. And now I’ve entrapped this young Omega in my life. Someone who clearly has no interest in being bonded right now since he’s been finding other ways to deal with his heats.”

Ed clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, Greg, I’m not saying you haven’t made mistakes in the past. But _this_ mistake isn’t yours. You didn’t set out to entrap anyone. You’re as much a victim of circumstance as this Omega is.”

***

The day passed slowly, each minute seemed to last an age. Team One, sans Greg, took a call mid-morning but it resolved quickly and they were back in the early afternoon.

Greg ploughed through paperwork, keeping his mind distracted as best he could. He popped another few pills after lunch but they didn’t have the same effect. He wondered how bad Spike was feeling by then.

He was up to his elbows in a performance review when Ed called softly from the doorway. “Greg, you’ve got a visitor.”

Greg didn’t get his hopes up, knowing it was just as likely to be the counsellor or someone from the clinic come to check on him. But the expression on Ed’s face said differently. He joined him in the doorway and caught sight of Spike standing in front of Winnie’s desk.

He looked worse for wear; pale, drawn, unhappy and on edge, but his eyes met Greg’s as soon as he came into view and it seemed to ease some of the tension.

“Spike.” Greg greeted, approaching slowly. “Why don’t you come on inside and we’ll talk.”

Spike was carrying a familiar manila folder in his hands. He followed Greg into the briefing room, giving Ed a wide berth.

When he hesitated in the doorway, Greg ushered him in and sealed the room before turning to face the music. Spike seemed to be waiting for him to speak but Greg let the silence build between them.

“I got your letter and the file they sent me.” Spike said eventually, waving the manilla folder in his direction before setting it down on the table.

“Good, I’m glad.” Greg didn’t want to get his hopes up but the fact that Spike was here was promising.

“You really haven’t read my file?” Greg had said as much in his letter to Spike.

“I was hoping to get to know you in person. Maybe we could start with your last name?”

“It’s Scarlatti. Mike Scarlatti. Officer Mike Scarlatti.” He said slowly.

For the first time in three days Greg felt something untwist in the knot inside his stomach.

“You’re on the job?”

“Bomb technician in training. Be qualified in a couple of weeks.” The Omega rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for Greg’s response.

Greg held out a hand as he smiled his first genuine smile in three days. “Sergeant Greg Parker, SRU.”

They shook hands and the horrible wrong feeling he’d carried with him for days began to fade. He tugged Spike towards him by the hand and the Omega moved unresisting into his embrace.

“Better huh?” Greg asked, as the Omega shuddered against him.

“Oh yeah, separation syndrome really sucks.”

“Yeah.” Greg replied with a sigh, letting a hand run through the Omega's hair. “That it does.”

Spike leaned in to brush his lips against Greg’s and Greg couldn’t resist, pressing against him, deepening the kiss. They pulled apart for air.

“So what now? Do I become your Omega helpmeet, keeping the house clean, getting dinner on the table?” The tone was frivolous, but Greg could hear the real fear behind it. Spike had been going places, had had plans, but every decision now lay in Greg’s hands.

“How about I make a few phone calls and we see what we can do.” Greg replied before pressing his nose to Spike’s neck and inhaling deeply.

***

It turned out to be a lot simpler that Greg had dared hope. Spike would finish up his training as planned but instead of doing a placement with the bomb squad, he’d do it with SRU. They’d train him up and he’d slot seamlessly into Team One. It almost sounded too good to be true but even Commander Holleran had given it the okay.

They hung around just long enough for Greg to get that confirmation and briefly introduce Spike to the team. Then he took Spike home.

Later that night they lay in Greg’s bed. Spike drowsed as he lay on his stomach next to Greg, the Alpha tracing symbols on his Omega’s back. Alpha. Omega. Unity. Eternity.

“Do you think this bonding thing is all it’s cracked up to be?” Spike asked sleepily. Greg leaned over and kissed his shoulder, revelling in how even that light touch had his Omega shivering with lust. “I guess we’ll find out.”


End file.
